


The Best Kind of Experiment

by OutRes



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Clothes Ripping, Embarrassment, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Female Masturbation, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, For Science!, Glasses, Gravity Gun, Large Cock, Lore Compliant, Mute Gordon, Premature Ejaculation, Slight Foot Fetish, Squirting, Strip Tease, Tickling, mild smell kink, you read that right GRAVITY GUN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutRes/pseuds/OutRes
Summary: During the events of Episode 2, Gordon and Alyx happen upon some unused private quarters at the White Forest facility. The HEV-suited physicist decides to take a long-delayed shower, though he needs Alyx’s help to undress...
Relationships: Gordon Freeman/Alyx Vance
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	The Best Kind of Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, this is the first of many (or at least... a few?) quarantine smutfics. Here, I decided on giving the ol' Gordon/Alyx ship a whirl, while adding in some ideas that came from a totally-wholesome, unperverted place. Enjoy!

As it turned out, the suit was surprisingly easy to remove. Alyx guided Gordon through the procedure, lightly tilting his neck sideways while bending his thumbs inward.

“Kleiner thought a gesture-based deactivation key would be a, and I quote, ‘marginal improvement’ over the old system of degaussing the plating” riffed the young, olive-skinned engineer, as several previously-imperceptible seams opened along the arms, torso, and legs of the HEV suit. The process reminded her of a plastic moulding slowly lifting off the form of a newly-created piece of lab equipment back at Black Mesa; a choice comparison, she supposed.

“Turns out old scientists are just as stuck in their ways as any other old codger, right, Gordon?”

Gordon replied with a throat-clearing, some eyebrow-raising and blinking that could only mean one thing: _Get a move on._ “Yeah, yeah, keep your glasses on,” Alyx said as she moved towards the loosening armor. Clutching her fingers around the orange chestpiece, Vance was struck by a thought. “So, what, you used to just demagnetize and let this all fall on the ground to let some poor research assistant clean up afterwards?” The bespectacled physicist hesitated, then sharply looked away, a look of shame flitting across his usually-stoic features. Alyx scoffed. “Thought so.” Then snickered. “You MIT guys.”

Freeman rolled his eyes, fixed a look downwards.

“Still,” she coyly admitted, “what with all you’ve done for us in the last few days alone, maybe someone _can_ clean up after you.” Alyx pulled at the armor. “Just this onc-” 

And then that ‘once’ hit her like a train.

Firstly, Alyx’s long-held mental image of Gordon as some demigod with oiled pecs of steel under the gleaming HEV was, if not shattered, then at least subverted: Her eyes met a battered, formerly-white t-shirt covering a torso that rated somewhere in-between “dad bod” and “lanky nerd.” 

Just totally average. 

_Except_ for the rancid smell of weeks-old sweat, that is.

Before she consciously realized it, Alyx was amidst a coughing fit, hurriedly prying more and more armor pieces off a form utterly paralyzed in shock and embarrassment.

“Shower! Shower!” were the only words the panicked woman could gutturally vocalize. 

To that end, any previous apprehension at pulling the armor off of Gordon’s crotchal region was now buried, deeply, under a landslide of self-preservation. And yet, when Alyx’s eyes caught the _severely_ stained nature of the scientist’s briefs, that landslide was then engulfed by another landslide, this one of a biliousness threatening to loose the contents of the engineer’s stomach all over Freeman’s (thankfully) still-covered feet.

But, no, no, she had survived getting impaled by a Hunter, not to mention the toxic waste pits she’d trudged through many times over. 

She. Could. Deal. With. This.

In that instant, that experience-driven, dogged perseverance led Alyx to single-mindedly rid herself and Gordon of the ammonia-smelling pestilence… by grasping the waistband of the scientist’s briefs and yanking them down his legs, the aged material ripping easily against the still-attached, hazard-orange greaves.

Still in crisis mode, she threw the soiled wear across the room, before falling back on her rear in instinctual relief. 

Locked in the mindset of someone returning from a fierce firefight, Alyx reflexively muttered, “Crisis averted.”

But then the adrenaline abated. Her mind resolved its fog of war into a now-terrifying clarity.

Not waiting to, Alyx Vance looked up. And, despite herself, gaped.

She hadn’t really formed expectations about _this_ part of Gordon, but in retrospect, Alyx was beginning to wish she had.

It wasn’t particularly well-groomed, sure; that was understandable given the circumstances. But the circumsized, five-inch (by her estimation) _log_ in the dead center of her vision had already begun to surface a pining long-suppressed by the Combine’s despotic efforts. Sure, she’d long considered Gordon a confidant, but the action quotient of their adventures had, like that suppression field, prevented a deeper urge.

Such an urge was now in danger of never, ever, being rectified, given how Gordon was now withdrawing into himself in a way that reminded Alyx of one of the giant tortoises she’d seen in Arizona. She caught him mid-shuffle to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I-I don’t know what came over me!” The embarrassed hobbling continued. “I just… look, you smell, and uh, especially _down there_ , but that’s natural! You’ve been cooped up in that tincan for a week, going through God knows what… And, well…”

Freeman finally stopped in his tracks, head guardedly turning with a raised eyebrow as its chief adornment.

Alyx, now easily as flustered as Gordon was, managed a shrug. “It’s just that, you don’t have anything to be ashamed about. With me. You can… smell... to your heart’s content, and I really wouldn’t mind. That much.” She really hoped that he got the message.

Gordon, for his part, was clearly mystified, but a measure of levity had now crept into his wordless stare.

“I mean, hey,” a blush now quite obvious on his companion’s face, “I probably smell like a ditch, and I haven’t heard any complaints from you.”

The half-naked scientist craned his neck in a typical exasperation. Alyx took a step closer.

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

She was standing only a foot away now, and did, indeed, have a point.

It was an auspicious first kiss, to be sure, with both participants smelling of war and survival, and one of them with a dick out, but to Alyx, it was fitting, in a post-apocalyptic sort of way.

Gordon tasted of week-old coffee and ozone; Alyx hungerly moaned into his mouth, eager to relish in everything she had been missing. Though Freeman still maintained his trademark stoicism, she could feel his shuddering with every undulation of their now-tangling tongues.

However, the engineer wasn’t lost enough in the moment to not risk a hand downwards. She traced a shaky line over a firm thigh, through a tangled forest of pubic hair, to meet Gordon’s rapidly-hardening member. 

She gave it a few, slow, experimental pumps; at that, Freeman broke the kiss with a particularly-unheroic gasp. 

Alyx chortled. “Everything okay, big guy?” The scientist managed a distracted nod.

“Good,” she quipped, “because I think I’m gonna skip the shower.”

And then she knelt to face level with Gordon’s mast. Where before she had retched at the smell, Alyx now outright panted amidst the heady musk hinting at a carnal delight heretofore mostly-unknown to her. Sure, she’d scavenged a few porn mags for curiosity's sake, but the engineer had truly never felt the things she was feeling now. Chief among them, a primal sense of desire, one that was leaving her unusually moist and sticky down-below.

Alyx had to fight off a long-inbuilt reflex to stop things and check for bleeding. She wasn’t on her period. She was just, blessedly, horny for Gordon Freeman.

Practically under her breath she uttered, “I need to suck you off _right fucking now,_ Gordon.”

With the ferocity of a Barnacle claiming its prey, Alyx so did claim Freeman. The taste was acrid, salty… and utterly fantastic, she realized, sweeping her tongue over the swollen, warm organ. It was corny as hell, she knew, but it was like tasting the essence of what they had endured over the past weeks, all that hardship, culminating in this all-too-brief moment of respite and intimacy. 

The engineer felt a hand cradling her head as she worked its owner’s shaft over. Alyx was delighted, too, that Gordon seemed to be getting as much out of this as she was.

Too much, as it turned out. 

Freeman’s grasp suddenly tightened, his hips bucking uncontrollably. Before Alyx could consciously recognize what was happening, the object of her attention throbbed and began spewing bitter, thick liquid into her mouth. She disengaged immediately, instinctively hacking up the globs of cum onto the concrete ground. Meanwhile, Gordon was still locked in the throes of orgasm, with long ribbons of white battering his partner’s downturned head and back.

After a seemingly-interminable amount of time, it stopped. Freeman, spent, stumbled back to rest against the wall. Alyx, glistening, remained inert, except for one hand, buried deep beneath the waistband of her jeans.

It fruitlessly continued in its motions for a few more seconds, then steadily drew to a stop. 

“I was close, Gordon.”

This single, foreboding sentence jolted the scientist from his post-coital daze, his still-bespectacled expression returning to its previous state of panic and embarrassment. 

“So.” 

“Now.”

Alyx, abuzz in tension, rose and stalked over to the shivering form. She brought up the hand that she’d been pleasuring herself with, dragged it across her cum-stained forehead, then settled it on Freeman’s lips. The man was too afraid to react.

“Now, you just get to watch.” 

The impish glee on Alyx’s face was obvious as she seductively walked over to the cot that the room had been supplied with. She made a mental note to thank White Forest’s quartermaster later.

Plopping down on the thick green nylon, she affixed a fiery glare on the frozen Freeman.

“Sit.”

Gordon staggered, the HEV greaves finally clattering to the floor, over to a nearby fold-out chair. Collapsing out of his deconstructing boots, the physicist shivered as his drooping cock briefly made contact with the cool metal.

Alyx thinly smirked, then shrugged out of her tattered, patched-together leather jacket. Looking down at her hooded, Black-Mesa-branded sweater, she grimaced. The two blood-stained holes marking the fabric threatened to surface the terrifying, recent memory of her near-death experience at the hands of that damn Hunter. Glancing, Alyx noticed that Gordon was in danger of returning there as well, his dark expression matching hers.

But, credit owing to her improvisational genius, the engineer salvaged the moment.

“Hey, Gordon. Wanna see a magic trick?”

Alyx gripped the garment’s zipper and pulled it down, exposing more of her olive-colored skin.

Beaming, she tapped on an otherwise-unremarkable part of her lower sternum; where she had been punctured by the Hunter’s talons. The Vortigaunts’ healing powers had left not even a small scar to show. 

She considered drumming on the spot like a drum for comedic effect, but instead took notice of Gordon’s change in demeanor. That terse anxiety had been replaced by anxiety of a different nature, the physicist obviously trying not to look at the engineer’s sports-bra-covered breasts peeking out from under the unzipped sweater.

Vance scoffed. “Come on, Gordon,” she said, watching as he jerked to attention, “I think we’re past shyness.” Subsequently, she shimmied out of the outerwear, exposing freckled arms to the dingy light.

Without missing a beat, or even letting Freeman refocus on the sight, Alyx grasped the bottom of the teal bra with both hands, pulling it up and over her head. The quick movement dislodged the brown hairband atop the engineer’s sticky forehead, leaving it to fall alongside the sports bra.

Alyx, bare-chested, red highlights messily falling across her face, triumphantly exclaimed “Ta-da!”

This time, it was Gordon’s jaw that fell agape.

Pleased that her scheme had so richly bore fruit, Alyx cooly looked down at her chest. It was graced with slim, pert breasts, and on them, a pair of brown nipples already hardened from arousal and the crisp air. She began to massage them, like she’d seen the pre-war vixens do in the magazines. Vance knew she wouldn’t have to push them together and display them for Gordon, like she’d seen in some of those pictures; the man was already tortured enough.

Meanwhile, Alyx teased a hand back down towards her bottom half, chancing a look up at her partner. Gordon was riveted to his chair, eyes and cock betraying no small amount of arousal. 

The engineer slyly cooed at the sight. “Guess your HEV’s all _recharged_ , huh?”

Freeman did nothing but lightly trace his re-engorging rod with calloused fingers, not altogether subtly reminding Alyx of his desire.

The engineer couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath, couldn’t stop herself from unbuttoning her worn jeans, and hooking her thumbs in-between the denim and her purple panties. 

Alyx let out a breathy “ _Fuck_ , Gordon.” before pushing the jeans down her legs, their unshaven, fine hairs tickling her palms. 

She stopped. 

“Fuck, Gordon.”

She’d forgotten her boots.

Alyx huffed an annoyed sigh, pulled her pants back up, and bent down, loosening the laces on the brown, heavy-soled footwear. But then, she heard the sharp knock of a knuckle on metal. She looked up.

Gorden Freeman had intent in his eyes.

For a split-second, Alyx thought that he’d break her commandment and rush over to help her. But he merely held up a finger - _wait a minute_ \- and moved up out of the chair, towards their equipment.

The engineer bit her lip as she watched Gordon’s erection bouncing as he strode.

He rummaged for a couple of seconds, and then pulled out a device with dual handgrips and a large, glowing barrel bisecting them.

Alyx immediately picked up on the physicist’s intent. And guffawed, despite her ongoing arousal.

“No way, Gordon. You’re…” She paused, the nerdier, logistical part of her brain pondering. A hint of a smirk developed on Freeman’s face. 

“...well, how?”

Gordon hoisted the large gadget up, and indicated a nigh-unnoticable knob just behind the barrel. He adjusted it to a notch above its lowest setting.

Alyx, in recognition, laughed again and slapped her thighs. “Okay then, Science Guy,” And then, with naked ambition: “Show me what you got.”

Gordon nodded and adjusted his glasses, leveling the machine at Alyx as she adopted a dancer’s pose; legs and feet pointed out, rod-straight, directly at the physicist.

He made eye contact with her one more time for confirmation. Wholeheartedly receiving it, he pressed and held in a button on the left flank of the device.

The Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator came to life, emitting a whirring tone as small arcs of electricity converged from angled manipulator arms to the orange-glowing barrel. 

Both Gordon and Alyx waited expectantly, the tension in the room mixing with both parties’ arousal to create an atmosphere only slightly-less-energized than the fizzing, electrified tool.

They didn’t have to wait long.

First, one, then the other of the engineer’s boots started trembling. But Alyx was as cool as a cucumber, even in her heightened state; rather, it was the electrostatic field interacting, albeit weakly, with the synthetic materials in the dark rubber soles.

The engineer grinned as the effect slowly but surely dragged the work boots off her feet, revealing off-white socks made even off-white-er with sweat. Gordon disengaged the device, letting the levitating footwear fall to the floor with a marked *thunk*.

Alyx coyly gave what her father would have called a “golf clap” but stopped when she noticed Freeman’s ruckled face. 

“Oh, I thought you didn’t mind the smell,” teased Vance. “You know, I didn’t mention _your_ stinky feet,” flippintly pointing to the man’s sizable appendages cloaked in too-worn gym socks.

The physicist sighed as audibly as Alyx had ever heard him, signaling her to hold on while he lowered the gravity gun and ferreted around further amid their belongings. 

Alyx was actually surprised; she hadn’t expected _more_. But that was Gordon, she supposed; always making the most out of every far-out situation he found himself in.

Freeman pulled out a small, dark module she recognized as a bauble they scavenged from the Citadel before its destruction. Squinting, he opened a diagnostic panel on the Manipulator, slotting the module in-between the Xen capacitors. Gordon then closed the panel and re-powered the device, looking as determined as he did back in that monolithic structure.

The gravity gun now glowed a tempestuous blue, and Alyx immediately knew what was coming. Or going, in her case.

She quickly resumed her pose, a fresh spurt of moisture making itself evident between her thighs. Gordon pointed the gadget at the engineer’s outstretched legs and keyed its retrieval function for the second time. 

As it activated, Alyx felt not a light plucking at her farthest extremities but a full-on _tug_ , one that forced her to practically rivet herself to the frame of the cot. Maintaining her composure, she focused her attention on her feet, fascinated.

The cotton around her toes flagged unnaturally, as if caught in a pinpoint wind. It continued loosening and flaring to the point that the fabric began to outwardly stretch far past the covered digits. Alyx, curious, bent her feet back, letting the gravity field catch and slacken the socks at the soles instead. The material further loosened, dragging the worn cuffs down the engineer’s pale heel until her wrinkled instep was revealed.

Vance re-angled her feet, and a half-second later, the smelly socks were floating in the space between her and Gordon.

Alyx giggled at the sensation that hit her then, stretching and scrunching her olive toes as the electrostatic ripples of the augmented field tickled her. Even stoic Gordon couldn’t suppress a smile at the sight. This continued for a minute before, curiosity sated, the engineer caught her partner’s attention and nodded for him to continue with his science-assisted ministrations.

Gordon dialed up the power slightly, and pointed it yet again at the plank-level Alyx. When the device activated this time, the engineer felt the magnet-like pull even more, though she and the cot thankfully remained still. The denim around her bare ankles flared much like her socks did, the material becoming taut up to her knees. 

It was hard to maintain composure, as the field was still tickling her feet and calves, but Alyx was still focused enough to realize that nothing more was happening; the jeans remained firmly stuck to her thighs. But then it hit her; she hadn’t actually properly unfastened them, like she had her boots.

Seeing Gordon visibly conflicted as to raise the power level further, Vance interrupted his train of thought. “Wait, Gordon, I got this.”

Looking down at her waist, Alyx first undid the low-hanging belt she kept her small tools and toiletries in. The second she pulled it through the loop, the forces of the gravity gun caught it, snatching it from her grasp. As that occurred, the engineer felt her waistband loosen a bit, confirming she was on the right track. 

Alyx took a breath, and unbuttoned her jeans. The denim slackened even further, the zipper pulling _itself_ down by way of the magnetic forces at play. Suffused with the scent of her now-uncovered arousal, Vance watched as her jeans eased their way past thighs and cot, peeling away from her legs until they hung suspended in front of her, inside-out. 

The engineer’s sight flickered down again, and her blush intensified. Whatever dampness that had been hidden by the thick blue denim was now fully on display, wetly saturating her purple panties to the point that even had Gordon been without his glasses, he would have been able to see.

And then they themselves started to, inch-by-inch, roll down her slender hips. Alyx resisted the impulse to catch them, to cover her long-unshaved private place from her partner’s piercing gaze. But she held firm, gulping and gnawing at her lip. No, Alyx Vance was in this for the long haul.

The befouled, bunched-up underwear continued its journey down Alyx’s toned, bristling legs, threading the needle of her animated toes before ending up where her jeans had: Floating limply in front of an engorged physicist.

Now utterly bare before that man and his arousal, Alyx reflexively spread her legs to the seemingly-open air, the besotted heat of her nethers almost too much to bear. But a new feeling made her breath hitch.

She’d too-quickly forgotten; the gravity gun remained engaged.

Having no articles of clothing to pull, the energy field manipulator was as such content with mildly tugging at the flesh of Alyx’s swollen vulva. From the engineer’s perspective, however, “mild” did not enter into the equation. After all, her clit was part of that flesh, and so it had been dragged even further out from its hood than it already had been from her preexisting arousal.

It hurt a bit at first, but the absolute _newness_ of it all kindled an even-deeper horniness in the engineer. Seeing the small bead pulsate in the grip of science, feeling the zero point energy touch her in ways no person could; it _supercharged_ Alyx, barreling her towards an orgasm exponentially more powerful than those achieved by occasional dalliances with a personal vibrator.

Gordon, meanwhile, stood transfixed, grip locked on the tool making his partner thrash and wriggle like she’d been sitting on top of a live wire. _His_ tool was rigid, near-parallel with the gravity gun above it.

Alyx was at her end, tears streaming down a face frozen in ecstasy. 

With a keening yell, she came. Fluids spurted from her floundering, stretched genitals - right into the waiting barrel of the gravity gun. The device sparked and smoked, capacitors overloading at the unfamiliar liquid’s touch.

Gordon, a professional even in this pornographic moment, quickly pulled its power module before more damage could be done. He frowned, noticing the trinket he’d attached had completely burned out, beyond repair. There were no replacements.

But then he glanced back up from the damaged manipulator at the sight that awaited him. Alyx was entirely limp against the cot, her head and legs mindlessly dangling off its edges. But before Gordon could start considering resuscitation measures, the young engineer sputtered back to life, mumbling and twitching. 

The physicist was instantly by her side with some pilfered water, which she eagerly consumed. Eyes finally focusing, she gasped.

“I… I think I murdered the gravity gun, Gordon.”

For the first time in an eternity, Gordon Freeman broke into fits of laughter, silent as they were.

Alyx nearly gasped again, but caught herself. She punched the physicist in the arm.

“Dork.”

This only emboldened the man’s humorous hitching, so the engineer reached out again, wrapping her hand around a certain _other_ dork. It remained sticky from their previous exertions, though otherwise, was none the worse for wear.

Freeman settled down, his expression changing to what Alyx could only describe as “affectionately-aroused.” At that, the engineer sighed a sigh both of love and anxiety. She knew it was only a matter of time before some unlucky resistance member would be sent to find the source of all the racket, and then their fun would be over.

Dejectedly, she released her grip on Gordon’s dick. “But crap, we probably don’t have much more time. Damn all this... world-saving business.” Vance couldn’t help but chuckle at the innate absurdity of it all.

Freeman slumped his shoulders, but nodded. 

The engineer prodded her partner up and away from her side. “You should probably get to your shower.” 

Gordon stood, but remained otherwise immobile. He extended a hand to, as it had turned out, the love of his life, sticky and naked as she was.

“Me? Oh, I’ll just…” 

Alyx paused, and simply sat, a realization evident on her face.

“...kill two birds with one stone.”

Gordon arched an eyebrow. Alyx adopted her trademark mischievous grin.

The engineer rose from the cot and gently guided her bespectacled love towards the bathroom, hand firmly enmeshed around his length. 


End file.
